


Resumption

by arpulver



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7411183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arpulver/pseuds/arpulver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bad enough that Daisuke, Miyako, Ken, and Iori missed out on the events of tri. They were also away from home for a long time. Now they have to return to a real world that passed them by, a team that may have forgotten them, and the memories of the failures that led them to this point. Can they accept their fate and move on or will they grow even more detached from the world and their friends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Demotion

Weeks after returning home, they were still lost to the world. Everything was supposed to be back to normal by now. Most of the damage to the city's infrastructure had been repaired. The distortions and infections no longer troubled anybody. They were safe in the real world again, reunited with their families and friends and lives they had missed for so long. Somehow, they didn't even have to worry about explaining their absence. It should have been easy to pick up where they had left off. That may have been why Daisuke found it so impossible.

The first thing his sister said to him after his return was, “Boy, you got into it this time, huh?”

It was typical Jun, and Daisuke responded in kind: “And let me guess: you still don't have a boyfriend.” She pulled him into a headlock, squeezing hard as her other arm wrapped around his stomach. He didn't fight it, nor did she stop. This was as close as she came to embracing him.

He got more of the same from the rest of his family. It was loving and sincere, but it was also casual. Not that he wanted anyone bursting into tears over him, but given how long he had been away and how much danger he had been in, it would have been appropriate.

Everybody seemed to react the same way. They were happy to see him, and a few of his friends admitted they had worried about him, but nobody was surprised by his return. Nobody seemed all that concerned about his absence to begin with. Nobody asked too many questions about where he had been or what he had been doing. To them, he wasn't off on a perilous adventure so much as he was gone for a few days to get his tonsils removed.

At first, he didn't mind. So much of it was a blur anyway. He didn't think he had been gone that long either. Everything between going into the world and returning was a hazy memory that didn't feel authentic. He didn't know whether he was unconscious for most of it, if the little he remembered was an illusion or fabrication, or if the experience was so horrible he subconsciously blocked it out. He wasn't going to dwell on what actually happened; Ken and Iori could worry about stuff like that. Daisuke was determined to put it behind him and resume his life as a normal (albeit heroic and awesome) fourteen-year-old boy.

Or was he fifteen now? He didn't think a whole year had passed since his last birthday and he didn't feel another year older. The calendar said otherwise. He could shrug off the whole experience and his friends could act like nothing happened. They couldn't reset time. Daisuke and his teammates missed entire seasons and the real world was going to pass through them no matter who was or wasn't in it.

Daisuke still refused to be bothered by the big changes. He even laughed along when his friends joked about how much school he got to miss. In reality, he was either going to have to repeat his second year of middle school or cram two terms of classwork into one in order to move on. He struggled enough at a normal pace, so going twice as fast would be impossible. Daisuke accepted his fate and did his best to enjoy his freedom in the weeks leading up to the new school year.

Instead, the little stuff annoyed him. He would still boast about his soccer team being the defending district champions. Daisuke was very proud of the victory; his play and leadership had been crucial to the team's success. That's why it was no longer accurate: without him around, his team lost early. He was disappointed to hear it, both for not being with his teammates and for missing the chance to play. The next competition was a long way away.

In place of getting on the field himself, he settled for living vicariously through Taichi. Daisuke never missed a match; until the new school year started, he didn't have anything else going on. Sometimes he would have company- Hikari or Sora or that new Chosen girl everyone was suddenly friends with. Today it was just him rooting his hero on.

Nobody else may have noticed it, but Taichi had changed too. To Daisuke, it seemed to be overnight. Before everything happened, he saw Taichi as worn down. Daisuke sympathized; as their adventures faded into the past and more real world responsibilities set in, life seemed a little less exciting. Suddenly, Taichi was as energetic and motivated as ever as he outran the opposing fullback to the ball. He dribbled around him with some slick footwork and drew a second defender over, freeing space for the other attacker. The cross was perfect and his teammate headed the ball into the net. Daisuke joined the crowd in yelling out their approval as the strike partners hugged enthusiastically.

Once the roar died and Daisuke sat down, he was surprised to find stray tears on his cheek. It made no sense: he was happy about the goal, but not to that degree. He couldn't possibly be upset over his friend's team scoring. Yes, he wanted to be out there. Yes, he wanted to be the one receiving Taichi's pass. But he also understood that this time he was on the sidelines. This time, Taichi was playing for him, not with him. Why would he cry over that?

Daisuke didn't always wait for Taichi after the game, especially if the others did. It made him feel like he was tagging along, even with Hikari there. Heck, even with Meiko, whom he still barely knew. He didn't understand why, nor did he understand his compulsion to stick around today. Taichi didn't see him at first, leaving with a pair of his teammates and sharing a few final jokes before they headed home.

Once he was alone, Daisuke eagerly smiled at him. “Hey! Awesome assist! You gotta teach me that move.”

Taichi nodded, still wearing a grin. “If you can handle it. Thanks for coming.”

“Going home?”

“Don't know yet.” Taichi walked past him, pulling out his cell phone. Daisuke frowned for a moment, but caught up to him quickly. As he did, Taichi's goggles caught the setting sun just right and reflected the light into Daisuke's eyes. He let out a tiny yelp and turned away.

“What happened?” Taichi asked, looking up from his phone.

“Your goggles stung me.” Daisuke rubbed his eyes and glared at them. “Why do you keep wearing those anyway?”

“Dunno.” Taichi pondered the question far longer than Daisuke expected. “There haven't been any more distortions.” He smirked and knocked the lenses of Daisuke's goggles. “Why? Got a problem with 'em?”

Daisuke clucked his tongue and shook his head, not responding. The answer wasn't satisfying at all. Distortions? What did it matter that the mess was over? The goggles weren't supposed to be useful. They meant something. Daisuke knew exactly what his pair stood for. He was less sure about Taichi's.

He liked to think the torch had been passed and he was as much a leader of the team as Taichi. As much advice and assistance as the older kids would provide, Daisuke and his generation now did the dirty work. Maybe it was foolish to think the worlds relied primarily on them. Maybe they were only the first line in what was an increasingly global defense effort. Maybe once they recovered from the vanished time, all they really lost was a bit of pride. It still hurt. Daisuke was used to being the hero, not the captive to be rescued.

“Actually...” Daisuke mumbled after a considerable delay. Taichi was back to checking his phone and didn't hear him.

Instead, Taichi turned to Daisuke and said, “Hey, I guess I'm joining the girls for dinner tonight. Nice talking to you.” He changed direction and walked off, leaving Daisuke alone on the sidewalk. No warning... no invitation... not even a real talk. Daisuke couldn't even be sure which girls Taichi was talking about.

He was left out once again. Out of everything, maybe missing the adventure stung the most. What Daisuke would have given to be a part of the action. It should have been his fight. It was his team's responsibility. They blew it. And the world was saved anyway.

The fight changed everybody. Daisuke's team was left to catch up on everything they had missed. The ones who actually did the fighting seemed to change for the better. They worried less, they fought less, and they had a better grasp on the world now. Maybe not everyone on Daisuke's team was as convinced. He figured they were just caving into their frustrations, angrily spouting nonsense about the older group not caring enough to prioritize the rescue.

Daisuke was sure Taichi did everything in his power to pull them out as soon as possible. The others were just being paranoid.

Right?


	2. Isolation

From the moment she first tried it on, Miyako hated the Odaiba Middle School uniform. The drab green color didn't suit her style in the least, the skirt was far too short for her taste, and the whole ensemble screamed innocent schoolgirl. She didn't care if she actually was an innocent schoolgirl; she had no interest in working that look any longer than national education standards mandated. She had critiques on the high school uniform at Tsukishima, but those were at least negotiable given what it stood for. Some kids dreaded the classwork, social stress, and teenage angst of high school. Miyako couldn't wait to charge into the hurricane headfirst.

Miyako returned home from the ordeal with just enough time to sign up for the Tsukishima entrance exam but not enough to have any realistic chance of passing it. But oh, did she try! While arrangements had been made to allow them to repeat a year, she was so set on moving on from middle school that she buried herself in books and cram schools for weeks. There would be time later for her friends and hobbies and the whirlwind love life she pretended to have. Even when she wore herself out studying or grew frustrated by how much material she had missed, she knew it would be worth it when she saw her number on the board.

It never appeared. All that work had gone to waste and she was back in her ugly green skirt for another year, standing in front of her new classmates, all younger than her. She refused to look at them.

“As with Daisuke last year, please understand Miyako's situation. I will not tolerate anyone giving her grief for something that was out of her control,” said her new teacher, ensuring that she would receive endless grief for what was out of her control. At least her seat was in the back, where she could zone out and doodle during lectures on stuff she had already learned.

She wouldn't have minded this so much if it was a foreign environment. She could handle being the mysterious transfer student at a new school. The teacher there wouldn't have to apologize for her presence. In Odaiba, she already had a presence. Most of her new classmates knew her from her clubs or her ties to the monsters (which was apparently a thing now) or just because Miyako never simply blended into a crowd. While no one could describe her situation as flunking, she was here due to an embarrassing series of failures and the other kids would surely pounce on them.

While taking her seat, Miyako noticed Takeru and Hikari watching her. Takeru smiled as if the three of them being in the same class was somehow cool. Hikari's expression was more plaintive. She had perfected that sympathetic face- the one that said she felt truly sorry for what Miyako was going through and understood completely.

“Like hell you do,” Miyako thought.

Her being in the same class as Takeru and Hikari was not a coincidence. Everyone involved with such decisions assumed having familiar faces around would make Miyako's adjustment easier. But just because they had a better idea of what she had gone through didn't mean they were there. Just as they had to face their own problems Miyako didn't understand, they could never wrap their heads around the idea of catching up after being away for a long and very eventful period of time.

The other problem was how close the two were. In class, they were attached at the hip- eating together, studying together, partnering together on projects. Miyako once found it adorable. Now she found it impossible to wedge herself into their world, in awe of how cleanly Daisuke had once immersed himself. She tried sitting with them and attempting to talk about one of her many challenges. They would nod along and offer encouragement, but somehow one of them would always end up changing the subject before Miyako reached any satisfying conclusion. The other always seemed more interested in the new topic. After a few days, Miyako started eating alone.

Miyako often walked past Tsukishima after school. She would see her friends from her class, able to push forward with their lives in pretty blue blazers. Sometimes one would see her and wave excitedly, but nobody ever spoke to her. They were proper high schoolers now. They'd never be seen with a middle school girl like her.

Once Miyako liked standing out. Now she preferred to be invisible. She spent her days hiding in the back, away from Takeru, Hikari, her old friends, and her current classmates. It was better than putting up with being a third wheel to two annoyingly happy comrades or the harassment she was sure to receive about her perceived failure.

She had gotten so used to keeping her head down at lunch she didn't see Hikari standing in front of her desk. The brunette faked a cough to get Miyako's attention. “I know we were supposed to meet at the Ferris wheel tomorrow, but there's a re-opening celebration over there and we...” Her head lowered. “Taichi doesn't think we should be nearby when all that's going on.”

“Huh?” Miyako vaguely remembered hearing how that part of the city suffered in the fighting, but she had no context, nor was Hikari giving any.

“We talked about it and we're going to meet at the park instead. Same time.”

Miyako squinted. “What's tomorrow again?”

Hikari's face brightened. “We're saying goodbye to Mimi. She's heading back to America next week. I told you a while ago, remember?”

She didn't. Rather than trusting her comrade, Miyako threw open her planner. She didn't remember when she had written it down, but there it was in her own handwriting- “Going Away Party, 1:00.” Her heart sunk.

Of course Miyako knew Mimi was back in Japan. Not long after returning to the real world, Mimi clasped Miyako's hands and cooed, “As soon as you get back on your feet, we are hanging out every day!” It was the most reassuring thing Miyako had heard. She couldn't wait to spend more time with her dear friend.

They barely saw each other since. By the time Miyako was anything close to back on her feet, the enormity of her quixotic mission to pass her high school entrance exam was in front of her and she refused to be distracted. She'd have plenty of time for Mimi, especially going to the same school only a year apart. It motivated her to study more- a temporary sacrifice for a future gain. Mimi ended up being a momentary joy, one that Miyako threw away for nothing.

Hikari would often express her delight at how the whole distortion debacle brought the Chosen closer together. At the park, Miyako saw the same segregation as always. Everyone still stuck to their own groups. Ken and Iori didn't even attend, leaving her stranded with Daisuke for much of the afternoon. She wanted to get in as much time with Mimi as possible, but the lady of honor devoted most of her attention to Sora and Meiko.

Miyako spent much of the party staring at Meiko with intense jealousy. She completely understood what was going on: she was the new girl once and it took Mimi reaching out to feel truly comfortable with being Chosen. Meiko was undoubtedly the same. But while Miyako had to settle for special visits to get time with Mimi in that first year, Meiko got to be with her every day. They were practically best friends. Mimi's departure was more emotional to her than anybody, and Mimi must have recognized that. For all the tears the newest Chosen was shedding, Miyako wanted to be in her shoes so badly.

She finally got her proper moment with Mimi when they were all saying goodbye. She received a hand on the shoulder and a sad smile as Mimi said, “Aw, we never got to hang out, did we?” Miyako shook her head, suddenly fighting off tears. “Well, maybe next time!” Miyako leaped forward and hugged her. Mimi's smile grew as she patted Miyako's head. “I'll miss you too. I'm so happy you're all right.”

Mimi leaned back, narrowing an eye as she caught something in Miyako's face. She grinned and walked over to Meiko. “Meimei!” she barked.

Meiko stood upright, a thick blush appearing on her face. Mimi continued, “I've taught you well these last few months. Now it's your turn to become the teacher.” She pointed at Miyako. “This is your new apprentice!”

“A... apprentice?” Meiko whimpered.

“Yep! And your new best friend!” Mimi patted Meiko's shoulder. “Teach her well.”

Meiko's lip quivered for a moment, but she dropped into a deep bow. “I'll do my best!” she shouted, face still red. Mimi turned to Miyako and flashed a wide grin.

Miyako backed away. This was the majesty of Mimi she was already missing. She wasn't interested in befriending Meiko, and hoped she wasn't desperate enough, but Mimi saw the void created in each girl's life and was trying to fix it as her last feat in Japan. It was magnificent. And it was gone. And Miyako missed out on it. The reality was settling in. It was unavoidable now.

As the group disbanded to let Mimi finish packing, Miyako ran without saying goodbye to anyone else. She needed to get as far away from them as possible. She found a restroom and locked herself into a stall. There, she bent over and let all the tears pour out. Between her team, her studies, and her friends, she was nothing but a failure. Her losses had added up until everything was gone. It was only a matter of time before she could no longer take it.


	3. Emancipation

The absence had been communicated to Ken's school, so there were no accusations of truancy when he got back. His friends and classmates all understood that him disappearing for months wasn't anything to be worried about. His parents had somehow been receiving regular updates and consultations. Even when there wasn't any real news (and there usually wasn't), it reassured them that this extended disappearance was different from the previous ones. Even despite the evidence to the contrary. Even when no one knew the truth.

As a result, Ken eased back into school smoothly. Unlike Daisuke and Miyako, he was even able to bear down and test his way into the next grade. His friendships continued where they left off with minimal questioning and only the friendliest of teasing. His mother was still a sobbing mess, of course, but she was intact. Somehow, his parents were able to accept what happened. No matter how much they had worried about him while he was gone, they were able to carry on until the day when they could finally embrace him again.

Relieved as he was that his parents survived the ordeal, Ken knew how improbable that was. They had gone through too much already. Between Osamu's death and the tumultuous events of 2002, they didn't deserve to lose their children again. Ken had been careful to honor this, keeping his life as open as possible so they would never have to worry about him again. He still worried about them every time he went to the Digital World, even for fun.

He assumed the worst when he got back. The first time he saw them after all that time, he didn't rush into their arms. Ken fell to his hands and knees and apologized. Even if he had little control over the circumstances, he refused to let anyone other than himself take responsibility. His mother bent down, forced him up, shook her head slowly and hugged him. Ken cried more than she did.

At first, he was relieved that everything seemed to turn out all right. His mother's stability and support helped him focus on his studying without distraction. If she believed in him that much through months of doubt and worry, he was going to keep moving forward for her sake. For weeks, everything was fine. Ken was successfully getting back on course and his family bonds were as strong as ever.

It wasn't until his cramming was over that Ken began to ponder how impossible this should have been. He didn't have to look far to see the extent of the damage in his absence. These attacks were tied to the reason he went missing. How could anyone act like this was normal? The world knew so little about the Digital World that any problems seeping into reality were bound to create confusion. There was surely panic across the city over all this. Nobody could truly understand what the Chosen Children go through, but everyone was relatively calm about four of them disappearing.

Ken never intended to get too engrossed in the details of what happened while he was gone. His parents had suffered enough to lose him to an obsession over events in the past. But it worried him. He asked the Chosen that were there, but all of them were hesitant to tell him too much. He chalked it up to some traumatic memory they didn't want to discuss, but the signs he had picked up made him suspect it may have been his own.

The older Chosen seemed more leery of him than of Daisuke, Miyako, or Iori. They were more prone to asking him questions. Stuff like making sure Wormmon was okay and asking multiple times if he ever found a way back home on his own. As if Ken would pop out without his friends, then go back in and stay trapped for another month. They asked harder questions than anybody. He began to piece together why.

He resisted checking archives of news websites. There was too much out there, most would have bad or incomplete information, and even now too many demonized the Digimon. Instead, Ken turned to a site he knew would have a reliable account. Takeru had always intended his page to be a way for Chosen around the world to stay in the loop. Ken was thankful to find the log of old posts, even if it confirmed what he had dreaded.

To say Takeru tiptoed around it was an understatement. He'd used terms like “old enemy,” “mysterious boy,” and “looked like someone we knew.” That last one troubled Ken the most, especially with “knew” in past tense. It all added up to something Takeru couldn't process seeing, and the one thing Ken never wanted to see again.

Ken scrolled down. The first comment, from Michael, confirmed it: “Was it really Ichijouji?”

Takeru had replied, “Yes. But it can't be. It's impossible.”

Another Chosen, one Ken didn't know, added, “Can you really say that? We don't know what's going on in there. Anything's possible.”

The reply from Takeru was: “You're right. I guess it could have been him. Who knows?”

Ken closed the page in a hurry. He had to lie down. He had mostly come to peace with his crimes. He would always hold himself partially responsible, but he understood there were other forces involved. They controlled him, bringing out the darkest side of him and coaxing him into doing unspeakable evil. That dark side would never leave him; nobody was ever completely free of demons. But to adopt that infamous persona again and revert back? Never again.

Yet there was one of his closest allies conceding it was possible. He couldn't even be sure if Takeru saying otherwise was really faith that Ken had changed or just the circumstances of the time. Even worse, the time Ken missed was such a blur that even he couldn't be sure it wasn't him. It seemed insane that he would have no memory of causing trouble, but what about this wasn't? Suddenly he was glad the Chosen hadn't filled in too many blanks. He didn't want to know what “he” did. Whatever it was, something else was controlling him.

And that, Ken realized, was what bothered him so much by how streamlined his return was. He knew about the agency monitoring Digital World activity. He knew they had the power to utilize government resources and deploy the Chosen to fight distortions. They also had connections to at least Tsukishima High School in Odaiba. Why wouldn't they massage those close to the four who had disappeared to avoid an uproar? The collateral damage to the city was bad enough; surely they had an interest in keeping missing children out of the headlines. And once the four returned, of course they should make the reintegration as smooth as possible. They may be called upon to fight again.

Ken didn't sleep well that night. Or the ones afterwards. He should have been grateful to them for taking care of his family and friends. He should have welcomed the break that afforded him a chance to continue his schoolwork unimpeded. He should have shrugged off the suggestion that he had gotten back to his old tricks. But what haunted him wasn't just his behavior that ruined lives. Even more important was all the times his behavior had no say in the outcome.

He had leaned to accept that real life was hard and that sometimes bad things happened. Whether he could have prevented his team's disappearance, he understood it would have consequences. His family should have been worried sick. His friends should have been confused. His schoolwork should have suffered. This was how the world worked, and it was up to him and those affected to overcome it. Perhaps he could have counted on the remaining Chosen to help. But what right did some mysterious agency have to meddle with all that?

Yes, he wasn't perfect. Yes, he still had to fight off the darkness. Yes, he may have failed to at some point. Yes, he could made mistakes. Yes, people he loved could sometimes suffer because of them. But they needed to happen anyway. That was supposed to be the deal. He wasn't sure it was anymore. And it left him feeling helpless, once again at the mercy of some unknown power. That's what he needed to fight. No matter how he dressed or who he became in the interim, he was still Ken Ichijouji. He knew who he was. And he knew how important it was to never let himself be controlled again.


	4. Frustration

Chosen. As Iori Hida ate a quick breakfast before school, he pondered what it used to mean. When he first became one, it felt like an honor. It meant he caught the eye of some mysterious force in some exotic world. It meant he was one of the few children on Earth capable of undergoing the burden of defending two worlds from conquest or annihilation. This responsibility led to an automatic brotherhood with his comrades. No matter how different two children may be in terms of personalities, nationalities, or even the languages they used to communicate, if they were Chosen, they were kin.

Iori didn't appreciate it at first. First he needed to bond with the group that came before him. He needed to see how they entrusted the new team with the job. He needed to meet Chosen around the world and witness how their fights were much the same. Only then did he grasp the sense of unity that appeared to be universal.

As soon as he truly respected what it meant to be a Chosen, it all seemed to change. The end of 2002 marked an end to the most dire threat to the worlds. They were sure it wouldn't be permanent, but the following two years were calmer, demanding less of the Chosen. It didn't stop more from appearing. This new crop didn't have the same experiences or the same appreciation for the job as the previous ones. They were all good kids, but they didn't feel the magnitude of the group they were now part of. Being a Chosen wasn't their core identity, but an occasional inconvenience if a problem arose in their neighborhood. They certainly didn't feel the need to be part of the international community. They also weren't always in a hurry to announce themselves.

Still, every so often a new face would show up on the online forum. Early on, Iori would share stories or help them understand their new partner. He felt obliged to help pass on what he had learned. It was also a chance to converse with the regulars who had done their part in 2002. They turned out to be just as capable of handling the new arrivals as Iori. As time wore on and as the fighting became less intense, the community felt less essential and Iori checked it less regularly.

After one long hiatus, he returned to find too many new, unfamiliar faces to keep track of. The Chosen were truly international now. Bogota, Lagos, Tehran- places Iori hadn't even envisioned as being online were suddenly in the conversation. Language barriers became more of a problem. Most of the Chosen Iori had helped bring in were no longer active. The current topics were either repeats of older discussions or something exclusive to one region, often not even related to Digimon. One week the only active thread was about Eurovision. Iori eventually abandoned it completely.

He knew how easy it was to turn his back on the Chosen. Years later, he was left wondering if the Chosen had turned their backs on him.

They had to have known he and his teammates were trapped. The situation had escalated into the worst crisis since 2002; they weren't going to disappear for no reason. It was beyond their control, or at worst a slight miscalculation with devastating consequences. No way did it have to stretch out as long as it did. Even if they came back safe in the end, the absence changed their lives more than the adventure itself. Among the many disruptions, perhaps the biggest was that Iori couldn't look at the older Chosen the same way again.

Taichi and the others had their reasons. The gate was closed. They had to prioritize stopping the distortions in the real world. They were operating under agency direction. Iori found them to be weak excuses. He and his team never said anything out loud. The mere possibility was unconscionable. These were their friends. And ultimately they were saved. To complain about how long it took would be ungrateful. Surely no one would take him seriously anyway.

It didn't matter. The thought consumed him. He had enough stress trying to get his life back in order, renewing ties with his classmates, and regaining his form in kendo. As the youngest, he didn't go to school with any of the others. This let him avoid everybody. Other than the occasional chat with Miyako, he withdrew from the Chosen entirely.

One of those occasional chats with Miyako turned into a walk along the shoreline. The conversation was informal, mostly about adjusting to their new classmates in their old grade level. She tried scolding him for missing Mimi's going away party, but it was half-hearted. He wondered if deep down she understood.

Miyako led him to a covered seating area overlooking the canal next to Akemi Bridge. Daisuke and Ken were waiting for them. Ken stood as they arrived. Iori frowned at them. “What's going on?”

“It's been long enough,” Ken replied. “We should talk about this.”

“I don't have anything to talk about. And I really don't have time.”

Iori backed away, only stopping when Ken said, “Are we really okay with this? It's been long enough. We need to stop pretending everything's all right.”

“What do you mean?” Daisuke asked. “We're back. We're in one piece. Worlds are safe. What more can you ask for?” He looked around. All of the other three were looking away, frowning.

Miyako was the first to speak. “Doesn't it bother you? Feels like everything's changed. Everything's passed us by.”

“That or nothing's changed,” Ken said. “Like everybody's trying to ignore the fact we were gone all this time.” He lowered his head. “It's almost like nobody noticed.”

“What? Of course they noticed!” Daisuke said. “Man, my folks were... were...”

“Still in one piece?” Ken's words silenced Daisuke. “Think about how long we were gone. Think about how little anyone knew about where we were. How did they survive that?”

“You've met my family, Ken.”

“I'm serious!” Ken looked at Miyako and Iori. “Fine, why weren't my parents bothered as much? Or any of your friends?”

“Or the other Chosen,” Iori spat. The other three stared at him, eyes widening.

Daisuke stood up, eyes narrowing. “Take that back.”

Iori did not. “Why did it take them so long? If we're supposed to be such a close group, how could they just leave us in there? Shouldn't we have been their first priority?”

“You don't know what was going on! How can you say that?” Daisuke looked at Ken and Miyako. “What about you two? You don't think they'd just forget about us, right?”

Miyako's eyes darted between Iori and Daisuke. She only shrugged.

“It's... possible they were being controlled too,” Ken said. “Maybe they were told it wasn't a problem.”

“But... but they're too smart for that, right?” Daisuke pleaded. “They knew we were gone. They knew we needed help. They just...” He couldn't finish.

Head down, Miyako said, “It's not fair to blame them for what happened.” Daisuke returned a sharp nod that she ignored. “But we need to stop acting like everything's fine. It's not. And they don't realize how bad it is for us.”

Iori nodded, leaning against a post. “So what do we do? If they can't help us, we're still riding this out on our own.” He sighed. “We're on our own no matter what happens.”

“Stop it!” Daisuke shouted. “It's not as bad as you're saying! You have to trust them!” He looked for support. Nobody said a word.

Now he was the one backing away. “I don't believe you guys. After all these years. After everything they did for us. You're going to doubt them now?!”

After staring at Daisuke for the longest time, Iori turned to the other two and said, “We either ask them some hard questions or we walk away.” He shook his head. “I know what my vote is.”

Daisuke glared at all three of them, pounded his hand against a wall, and ran away. Nobody reacted. None of the three wanted to be the next to speak. After a minute of silence, Iori bowed towards Miyako and Ken and left as well.

Iori was happy they had similar reservations as him, but the meeting was as unsatisfying as he had expected. If there was any hope of him finding any sort of solace among the Chosen, it started with his team being unified. Clearly they weren't. For everything these four had gone through together, if they couldn't come to an agreement on what happened, what hope was there of finding comfort within the entire group?


	5. Correction

There weren't many subjects capable of dividing Hikari and Takeru. To the surprise of many of their peers, one of them tapped into their core identities as Chosen. Takeru was proud to be a member of the original team Taichi led. He may have been the youngest member, but his fight was alongside Taichi and Yamato and Sora. For Hikari, hers was alongside Daisuke and Miyako and Iori.

Takeru had been with the earlier team the entire time and fought battles that Hikari still couldn't visualize. She only had a vague picture of Angemon's death or Sora's capture. While she had a hand in the climax, she was prouder of her later adventures. That's where she toiled, stepped up, and evolved in ways that she never had a chance to before. Under Taichi, she was the leader's mysterious little sister. Under Daisuke, she was part of a team.

Before, this rift had been little more than a philosophical curiosity. Either she or Takeru would make a passing comment about an old memory and it would somehow evolve into a longer discussion. Maybe he would talk about something from before she arrived or she would dwell on an experience with the younger team he had never given a second thought to. They acknowledged and accepted their difference in mentalities, but it was never a big deal. After all, they were all on the same team in the end.

The disappearance changed all that. Of course it was unfortunate and of course they worried. It took everything they had to push aside the feeling of helplessness. But their tones were completely different. Takeru was concerned about “them.” What happened to _them_? How could _they_ just be trapped like that? Why can't we save _them_? Hikari asked different questions: what did _we_ do? Will _we_ be all right? And the most important one, the one Takeru insisted she never ask herself: why weren't _we_ together?

The circumstances may have been beyond their control, but it never stopped her from questioning her fate. Given everything that came later, she was convinced she was destined to be part of the fight. But why her? And why at the expense of her teammates? For the longest time she would have felt more at ease if she and Takeru had gone missing as well. At least it would be consistent. At least it would have spared her the guilt of remaining in the real world. At least they'd all be together. Maybe they would have even had a chance.

Takeru shot down her mindset every time it came up, sometimes aggressively. “How can you say that? Why would you want to be in their shoes?” he would always say.

“Don't you think it should have been our fight too?” she would respond.

“They have their battle. We have ours. Please stop worrying about it.”

In truth, it helped. Whatever was going on, it felt out of their control, so it was just easier to heed Takeru's advice and focus on the challenges that were in front of her. Those became hard enough. It was against her nature, but the new trial required all her concentration. It carried her through until the end.

That's when the second guessing started. No matter how many accommodations had been made to help ease the returning four back into reality, Hikari knew it was still bound to be a tough road. She and the others tiptoed around sensitive subjects about Ken, unwilling to stir old memories no matter how pertinent they were. Daisuke missed weeks of school; Hikari assumed it was part of his way of getting back up to speed. She let him go at his pace and didn't intercede, even after his return at the start of the new year.

With Miyako joining her class, she should have been the easiest to reach. Hikari welcomed her to the table, brought her into the conversations, and did whatever she could to present something resembling normality. She never understood why it didn't take. Miyako's withdrawal hurt. Hikari was torn as to whether to chase after her or leave her be.

“We're doing all we can,” Takeru said.

“Are you sure?” Hikari replied, looking over her shoulder at Miyako once again. “I still don't know if they're okay.”

“If they don't want to talk to us right now, we shouldn't make them. I think they're still fighting their battle.” He forced a smile. “They'll get past it.”

“But... what if they need our help again?” She lowered her head.

Takeru frowned, glancing at Miyako. She had been staring back and quickly jolted her head towards the window. “If I were them, I'd never ask us for help again,” he said. Turning back to Hikari, he added, “Maybe they just need to step away for a while. They'll come back when they're ready.”

It wasn't the answer Hikari had wanted. But her second opinion concurred:

“How many of us weren't ready to jump back into this?” said Taichi one night. “How much did we all give up? I don't know if we could just pick it all up again tomorrow. Why should we expect them to?”

“But don't we owe it to them to make sure they're getting through this?” she replied.

He stared blankly at the window for a long time before answering, “What happened happened. It can't be helped now.” Taichi stood up. “I'm going to bed.”

No matter how much Hikari trusted Takeru or her brother, neither of their answers satisfied her. She was afraid to reach out on her own; depending on the source of their grief it may have only made things worse. But she wanted to, and eventually she couldn't resist.

Hikari hadn't seen much of Daisuke. He had thrown himself into as many activities as he could since starting the new year. “Making up for lost time,” he had told her at the party for Mimi. If any of the four were further along on their recovery, she reasoned it would have been him. Yet after school she found him, alone, on a bench outside, staring at the pavement. Surely he was supposed to be at practice or something. She was on her way to a photography club meeting herself. She stopped anyway.

“May I join you?” she asked, throwing on a light sympathetic smile.

He looked up at her and jolted to life. “Hikari...” Daisuke shuffled over, even though there was already plenty of room. “Of course.”

She carefully found the appropriate spot to sit to have an intimate conversation without intimating anything else to the students walking by. “It's nice to talk to you again.”

Daisuke nodded. “How's class?”

“Not as fun without you.”

“Don't fake it. You've still got Takeru in there. And Miyako now I guess.”

She frowned. “Miyako doesn't really talk to us anymore. I... I'm not sure why.”

His eyes steeled up and he gritted his teeth. The response worried Hikari. Either he knew something about it or he felt something similar. “Do you know what's wrong?” she asked.

He looked her way, turning back when their eyes met. He needed a moment before looking at her again, desperation across his face. “You guys... you guys did everything you could, right?” Daisuke leaned forward. “You were worried about us? And you tried?” He gulped. “Right?”

She put the smile on, shaking her head as if to rattle the doubts out of him. She opened her mouth, ready to put him, and hopefully the others, at ease...

Nothing came out.

Hikari knew exactly what she was supposed to say. They needed reassurance, and she needed to say whatever she could to give it to them. It refused to come out. The words choked her.

“Hikari?” Daisuke's hand fell onto the bench between them.

“I mean we... we...” Her lip quivered. She still couldn't say it. She felt herself catching all the doubts already consuming Miyako and Daisuke. Did they really do their best to help their fellow Chosen? Had they worried as much as they should have? At the time it felt like they had, but now that they knew what was really happening?

The truth became obvious. They should have shown more concern. They could have shown more skepticism sooner. They should have asked better questions. And honestly, they were the Chosen Children. With their know-how and willpower, they achieved the impossible on a regular basis. They saved the worlds on multiple occasions! If they had recognized the crisis sooner and devoted themselves to it...

Hikari's hands shook. No matter how impossible it was to conceive, it surely wasn't. They could have done anything if it was important enough. But for whatever reason, it just wasn't important enough. Suddenly her shaking head wasn't reassuring anymore.

“We... told ourselves you were okay,” she said. She struggled to breathe. “We just kept thinking that wherever you were, you were on top of everything. That we didn't have to worry about you. That we could worry about...” She stopped; anything she said after that would sound selfish. There was no restarting after that; the tears were already streaming down Daisuke's eyes.

Now he couldn't speak. He was already past denial or clarification. He already knew. He just didn't want to believe it. It only made her feel worse. She put his hand on his. “Daisuke...”

He pulled his hand and stood abruptly. She reached for him but he backed away, staring at her the whole time. Again he tried to speak but failed. His tears said everything. Eventually he gave up and retreated.

Hikari bent over on the bench, clasping her hands together, her forehead falling on them. Suddenly she realized why Taichi and Takeru were so hesitant to step in to help them. She tried, and it only made her realize how bad things were. And it only drove Daisuke further away. This was her team all right. Now she had to carry the feeling of betraying all of them.


	6. Absolution

It's too easy to look the other way. Cries for help aren't usually sent through screams or distress calls or messages in bottles. They're subtle- words or behaviors that seem fine on their own but beg for a response when viewed as part of a bigger picture. A picture often filled with distractions. There are assurances that everything's fine. There are your own problems that are so easy to prioritize over someone else's, no matter how small they are by comparison. Even if you see what's wrong, there are the daunting challenges that come with addressing it, making it seem easier to just pass them by. Even so, at some point they invade.

Takeru had done everything he could to never give it a second thought. Every rationalization he had heard or concocted made sense. Every distraction thrown his way was another excuse to let his mind drift. Every ray of blind optimism convinced him that the missing four were going to be just fine. He wasn't worried about them. He didn't spend every day trying to engineer a way to reach them. Quite the opposite, in fact. In a couple of their most desperate battles, Takeru imagined Daisuke and Magnamon charging in out of nowhere and saving them. After the truth began to come out, Takeru had to work to deny how selfish it all sounded.

It was also too easy to be happy it was over. Takeru and his fellow Chosen had gone through hell. They experienced trials that tested the way they perceived their entire lives and battled enemies that tried to end them. They needed the peace they had fought for. They deserved it too. Takeru had little patience for stress in the following months. He was more than happy to hang out with Daisuke and Miyako, but he was in no position to recognize or address the struggle they were facing. When it became apparent they were not all right, ignoring it was the best way to keep his own guilt at bay.

When it spread to Hikari, he couldn't avoid it any longer. Now her worried looks at Miyako during lunch were obvious and frequent.

“It won't do any good dwelling on it,” Takeru said. “They'll do what they need to do.”

“But this is our fault.” Hikari's gaze was still fixed on Miyako. “We have to do something for them.”

“Look what happened when you tried. If they decide they want nothing to do with us...” Takeru looked over his shoulder quickly, then added, “We don't have any right to tell them how to think. It's not like we can explain ourselves.”

She turned to him. “Maybe not, but we can apologize.”

“What good will that do? Would it really help admitting that we didn't care about them as much as we should have? It's not like we did it on purpose. We just didn't realize how bad it was for them.” He shook his head. “If we try defend ourselves, we look even worse.”

Hikari nodded; she had already learned that. “But if we give up on them now, aren't we making the same mistakes?” she asked.

Takeru looked into her eyes. To his surprise, he didn't see kindness or sentimentality. She was focused. He thought he was being the mature one in the conversation, but only because others agreed with him. One look at her and he realized he was trying to avoid the problem again. They needed help, and as teammates they were responsible for delivering it.

Not that there was a simple solution. They weren't even aware of the breadth of their issues. Talking to Daisuke or Miyako didn't help understand Ken or Iori. That was the first step, and sure to be the most painful one.

When they proposed getting the six of them together to talk, Daisuke and Miyako were on board, despite some eye rolling from the latter. Ken was willing to trek to Odaiba as well. Iori didn't answer Hikari's calls. They needed to bring the meeting to him. Thankfully, Takeru was always looking out for symbolism.

“Three years and they still haven't replaced these monitors?” Miyako thought aloud as the five of them surveyed the elementary school computer lab. She, like all of them, felt the memories of the place. The original Odaiba Chosen had several places around town filled with memories of their adventures both good and bad. The distortion crisis added several new landmarks to the map. But for Daisuke and Miyako, this place was all theirs. Miyako held her D3 to a monitor. She wasn't sure if it could have actually done anything and she didn't try, but it felt natural.

Iori swung the door open, saw the five, and glowered.

“Have a seat,” Takeru said. “We want to talk to you.”

The youngest member of the team hesitated. Had it been any other room in any other building in any other world, he might have turned around and slammed the door. Not here. This place was special, and Iori could never dishonor it by running away. He slid the door closed and sat next to Miyako.

Hikari stood and addressed the room. “So... we can't take back what happened. I know there are a hundred things we would have done differently. But this is where we ended up. So what do we have to do?”

Nobody spoke. Iori looked at Miyako and shook his head. Ken kept his head down. Daisuke looked around, shuffling uneasily in his seat. Takeru and Hikari frowned at each other, but waited it out.

Miyako finally broke the silence. “Why are you asking us now?” She refused to make eye contact with anyone. “Did you finally realize it? Did the guilt finally get to you? Now you want to make it better?”

“Figured it out a bit late, didn't you?” Iori heaved a long sigh. “Seems to be becoming a pattern.”

“Come on!” Takeru said, louder than he should have. “That's not fair. Do you really doubt us that much?”

“You doubted me,” said Ken. He was calm, head lowered as he sat by the window. “I saw what you posted. I don't know whether you really thought that was me.” He rose, staring back at Takeru, who already felt a shiver. “But you had doubts. Somewhere in your head, there was a little voice telling you that I might have gone back to... that.” His head shook. “I don't care how small a voice it was. It was there. And you couldn't get rid of it.” He looked at Iori and Miyako. “Don't tell us we're wrong about our doubts. Not after the doubts you had about me.”

Takeru was speechless. No, he didn't believe it was really true, but he couldn't dismiss it either. They had been so lost and confused by everything going on that he refused to rule out anything. Even something representing an unforgivable lack of faith in a friend.

“Is that true?” Daisuke murmured, standing up. “You forget about us? You abandon us for how long and then... that guy shows up and you actually think it could be Ken?”

Takeru shot to his feet. “I never thought it was Ken! We just... couldn't say for sure it wasn't.”

Daisuke took two steps towards Takeru, his voice getting louder. “So what, Ken doing all that stuff wasn't impossible enough but us being in real trouble and needing your help was?!” Takeru turned away. “It wasn't as crazy as thinking that maybe you should be worried about us disappearing for all that time?”

“Daisuke...” Hikari begged. She was surely worried now. “Please. We know we could have done better. But... we didn't.”

“It's over,” Takeru muttered. He stared down Daisuke. “Whatever happened... whatever mistakes were made, it's done. Now we're here. We're trying to help. So what do you need?”

Daisuke only huffed. His breath grew heavier, and louder, and his face grew more pained until he exploded: “We need the last year back!”

“You can't have it!” Takeru shouted. “It's gone!”

“And who's fault is that?!” Daisuke's arm shot forward and grabbed Takeru's collar. “We're not okay! We are lost and miserable and it's all because of you guys!”

“We didn't do anything!”

“You're damn right you didn't!”

Now Takeru clutched Daisuke's shirt. “We aren't the reason you ended up in there! We never did anything to hurt you!”

“And when something did, you didn't care!”

He saw Daisuke's hand ball into a fist. Takeru had so many things he wanted to say. He had so many denials, so much proof that Daisuke was wrong. But instead he released Daisuke, turned his head, closed his eyes and braced himself. Not because he was afraid Daisuke would become violent. Takeru just couldn't fight it any more. Those four had suffered, and his eight had disappointed them too much to deny them any longer. If the road to healing started with letting Daisuke unleash his frustration on him, Takeru was willing to accept it.

It never came. Takeru opened his eyes and saw Daisuke's fist raised, but shaking. Iori looked at them both with scorn. Miyako was completely disinterested. Ken was concerned, but he made no motion to stop it. Daisuke let go of Takeru, albeit with a light shove, and stood there, sobbing.

Takeru tried to speak, but a beeping stopped him. Miyako frantically checked her phone, turned off the alert, then shook her head, mumbling, “Don't know the number anyway.”

“We went through hell,” Takeru said. “Every one of us. All thirteen of us had to deal with the worst. And some of us could have handled it better. Some of us made mistakes. But the only reason we got through it was because of each other.”

Hikari shook her head. “Nobody understands what we go through as Chosen. How could they?” She looked up at Daisuke, frowning. “And maybe that's the problem. We don't understand what you four are going through and you don't realize how hard it was for us. I mean... of course we cared. And if anybody's going to understand you, it really is us. We want to help.”

“Are you kidding?” blurted Miyako. Everybody looked at her, but she wasn't responding to Hikari. She was reading a text. “That's been sold out for weeks.” She looked up, surprised by all the stares. “Oh, sorry. It was from Meiko. She has an extra ticket for a concert Saturday. Asked if I wanted to go with her.” She shrugged.

Ken narrowed an eye. “She just... happened to have an extra ticket to a sold-out concert? And invited you out of the blue? That's curious.”

“Maybe...” Her eyebrows flared. “But I did kinda want to go to this...” She texted a response as Ken glowered.

“Look...” Takeru sighed. “You can blame us all you want, but that's not going to make anything better. So either you can push through this alone or you can lean on us. Whatever you choose, we'll be behind you.”

“Either way, it's up to us,” Iori said, eyes to the ground. “We've got to figure this out ourselves. You can offer to help as much as you want, and it doesn't matter why. In the end, this is our life now.”

“Do you want our help?” asked Takeru. Iori lifted his head, staring at Takeru, eyes wide.

The response came from Ken: “We should accept all the help we're offered, shouldn't we?”

Takeru nodded. Hikari smiled and stood next to Takeru. “We're here. Tell us anything.”

He expected an outpouring. Or words or emotions or some form of reconciliation. He felt the tension dying. Daisuke stood still, tears kept in check. Ken and Iori's faces had softened, seemingly ready to bare their hearts. Miyako had checked out completely, still texting away.

Iori stood and offered a short bow at Takeru and Hikari. “Thank you,” he said, face neutral, before walking out of the room.

Ken followed him, only offering, “I should get going too.” Just like that, two were out.

Daisuke watched the door. Hikari put a hand on his shoulder. “Daisuke...”

He only shook his head. “I don't know. It's harder than that. I know it would be easy just forgetting it happened, but... you guys still did what you did and we still got hurt like we did. It just... takes time.” He heaved a sigh. “We lost too much time already to waste it.”

He followed them out without another word.

Daisuke was right: it wasn't the instant fix Takeru and Hikari had hoped for. In fact, for the next few days it seemed like nothing had changed. It took another week for Miyako to join them at lunch again. Even so, she never discussed her problems. Daisuke would greet them in the hallways, but always answered “fine, fine” when they asked how he was doing. They didn't hear much from Iori or Ken. Hikari was tempted to get them together again, but Takeru refused. They had said everything they needed to. Whether or not they would ultimately be forgiven was out of their hands.

Still, it bothered him. Even weeks after the meeting, he couldn't be sure if he and Hikari would ever regain the respect of Daisuke, Miyako, Ken, or Iori. Perhaps the connection between the thirteen Chosen would forever be marred by that one ugly incident. But perhaps that was fate. Their inaction directly and permanently affected the lives of four people. Why should they ever be able to live that down?

In time, he thought about it less and less. He couldn't dwell on the past when he had his own future to worry about. He walked home from school, backpack filled with test materials for his high school entrance exam. It was time to get cracking and move on... until the text arrived from Taichi.

“Koushiro picked up some strange readings. We're meeting in his office ASAP.”

Takeru texted back without missing a beat, changing course and abandoning his plans for the night. As he started running, he slowed and came to a halt. Before he let himself go any further, he relayed the information to Daisuke.

He didn't even return to a proper sprint before his phone went off again. After checking it this time, Takeru needed to pause and collect himself. He took a deep breath and smiled, staring at the response from Daisuke for a long time before reporting for duty:

“Taichi already told us. We're on our way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Art by http://graffiti-flower.tumblr.com
> 
> While I try to keep the actual details to a minimum to account for numerous possibilities, this story makes many assumptions about what is happening in tri. and could prove to be totally wrong. In the interest of staying flexible, these assumptions will not be made explicit.


End file.
